


The Male Escort

by Anonymous



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Child Neglect, Clothed Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Nipple Play, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Prostate Massage, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:25:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4908775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg works a couple of nights a week for the Venus Escort Agency for some extra money.  Mycroft's usual escort is on holiday and the agency sends over a substitute.  Can a former Detective Inspector turned coffeeshop assistant and an unhappy, emotionally stunted government official become more than just escort and client.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Double the money

Greg sipped on his ginger ale pausing when the door to the upmarket bar opened then frowned as a giggling couple came through it.

Katrina was now half an hour late, there was no message on his phone which he had been checking since a few minutes after the designated appointment time and he could only surmise the new client had either changed her mind or chickened out on going through with the booking. 

Either way it was no skin off his nose as he got paid regardless since the agency made sure a client paid the entire payment for the booking upfront. It was non-refundable unless he was unable to keep the booking but so far he hadn’t needed to cancel. 

“Good evening, Venus Escort Agency, Diana speaking.” came the sultry voice of his casual employer.

“Evening Diana, it’s Greg….look, Katrina was a no show.” said Greg tapping his fingers on the bar.

“No message has been left with us and half an hour is more than reasonable for you to wait.” said Diana “Looks like you get a fully paid night off sweetie.”

“Anything for tomorrow night?” he asked, hoping to get two nights in for the weekend since his daughter was staying with him next weekend and wouldn’t be able to work.

“No, sorry sweetie.” apologised Diana. 

“Thanks Diana, let me know if anything comes up for the weekend after next.” said Greg.

“Will do honey, bye” 

He hung up, nodded to the bartender and left the bar. The booking had been for a dinner date but generally once the social niceties were over sex was usually the main reason a person sought out an escort. Diana had rooms booked at a specific hotel that was clean, nice and safe not to mention she got cut rates for giving the establishment plenty of business in the quieter tourist months. There was no way he would bring anyone home with him and he wouldn't feel particularly safe going to a client’s home either.

Barely a minute after he got into his car the phone rang, the display showing the contact number for VEA. Maybe she already had lined up some work for the weekend after all.

“Hi Diana.”

“Hello again, I was wondering if you might be interested in some more work tonight…..a client has just called asking for an appointment, unfortunately Edward, the escort he normally books, has gone on holidays for a few weeks…….he pays double for the inconvenience of short notice and pays only in cash…..he prefers a mature escort and you are the one of two of our older gentlemen who is currently available…..would it be a problem to meet him now at a hotel of his choice instead if you are agreeable?” said Diana in a rush.

“Oh, um….double huh, and cash, wow” said Greg, no wining and dining then, it would be straight to the point “Ok, where…..what’s his name?”

“Scott, and don’t worry, he’s been with us for a few years intermittently and quite safe.” said Diana “I’ll just deduct our fee from Katrina’s payment if that’s okay?”

“Not a worry” answered Greg then memorised the room number of the hotel which was one of the swankier ones in London “Night Diana.”

Double the money! That would make up for the lack of work tomorrow night. He’d had only two male clients, Diana had been quite happy to find out he was bisexual and would take on both male and female clients. Mostly it was female clients that booked him, both younger and older. 

Sometimes he preferred the females, at least it was more intimate with them…..males tended to just want him to suck them off or fuck him…..foreplay seemed to be skipped entirely though one of his male clients at least reciprocated albeit grabbing at his dick like he was strangling a snake. He didn’t much care as long as he got paid; he was there to provide what the client wanted whether as arm candy, a date, company or for sex.

It had been his best friend Sally Donovan who had suggested he look into becoming a male escort, confiding she had once paid for an evening with one to go out to dinner after Phillip Anderson had tossed her aside to go back to his wife…..he had almost fallen off the pub stool he’d been sitting on when she told him how much she had paid and blushingly giggled about how great the sex had been. It seemed not only a ridiculous amount of money but a very easy way to make money and pay off the debts……of course the agency only made the appointments, it was entirely up to the escort as to what services he or she would provide though it was unspoken that sex was one service that was sought after. Only Sally knew what he did two days a week on his nights off from his main job.

After the divorce from his now ex-wife Trudie he had been lumbered with all the debts which even selling the house for a small profit hadn’t made a dent in…….so when Sally had suggested looking into it and gave him the name of the agency she had used he had been quite surprised upon meeting with Diana for an interview how much money he could make. Of course she asked no questions about his life other than what was relevant to the job itself and ensuring he had no criminal record, a clean bill of medical health and understood the agency’s policies and rules…..he didn’t think she would be impressed that he had been a Detective with New Scotland Yard until two years ago…..he had quit the police force after an ice addicted loon had opened fire outside the courthouse he had just given evidence in and been shot in the thigh narrowly missing his femoral artery.

At first he had stayed in Sally’s spare room until he got on his feet, borrowing money from her which he had paid back with his first weekend payment from the agency, he now rented a small flat and worked a quiet life in a small coffee shop come bookshop that paid enough just to keep the roof over his head, his long service leave had paid off his car and bought him furniture to furnish the flat. 

After parking his car he went into the lobby of the upmarket hotel, a smartly dressed woman who was seated in one of the lobby chairs with a Blackberry in her hand glanced up at him then rose, walking over to him before he could approach the reception desk.

“Hello, might you be Nathan?” she asked pleasantly not pausing in her tapping of the keys on the phone.

“Um, yes.” said Greg. 

“Follow me, please.” 

He hesitated a moment before following her and wondered what was going on….perhaps Diana had forgotten to mention it might be a threesome which he had no problems with…..the smartly clad woman was quite beautiful after all.

“I’m flattered Nathan but I’m afraid I’m just the hired help here to convey you to your meeting with my boss.” said the woman with a small smile “Diana was right, you are very handsome……far more so than Edward who is a little younger.”

“Well, we aim to please our clientele.” said Greg simply a little embarrassed that she knew what he was there for though she didn’t seem troubled by it.

He followed her to the room number Diana had told him which turned out to be a suite and opened the door for him. 

“He’s currently taking a call out on the balcony, help yourself to a drink from the bar and make yourself comfortable until he’s finished.” she said and departed, leaving him in the sumptuously appointed suite.

Greg toed off his shoes and removed his socks then went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. He wandered through the suite until he found the huge master bedroom. To kill some time until his client had completed his business he turned on the TV and kept the sound on low so as to hear when his client arrived and watched a well-endowed male fuck a female in a variety of positions while she squealed and moaned in exaggerated pleasure. At least her perky tits were real bouncing about and not inflated to grotesque proportions like airbags. He found adult channels quite hilarious.

He didn’t notice the man on the threshold until he heard a mobile phone beep and shot up from the small sofa, quickly turning the television off. The man was a little taller than himself and younger by several years. He was dressed formally in a pinstripe waistcoat that matched his trousers, both looked hand tailored and definitely not off the rack. Crisp white shirt, burgundy silk tie, silk pocket handkerchief and highly shined leather shoes completed the ensemble and screamed money.

“Scott?” asked Greg enquiringly. 

Blue eyes flickered over him but the man’s expression did not change from cool politeness. Greg was sporting a half hard cock that was quite visible in his form fitted slacks from watching the porn on the television which blue eyes had lingered upon.

“Indeed, and you must be Nathan?” responded the man, his accent was just as polite and very posh.

“Yes.” said Greg quite unnecessarily “Your……um, hired help let me in.”

Blue eyes continued to study him while he stood there feeling like a bit of an idiot now. 

“I do hope the short notice was not inconvenient, I do not work set hours or days.” said Scott coming into the bedroom “May I offer you a drink?”

“No, not inconvenient at all.” said Greg truthfully “And I have some water I helped myself to, thank you.” 

Greg smiled. Scott was quite attractive in a public schoolboy kind of way, his reddish auburn hair was immaculately styled though receeding a little, his full lips sensuous and his figure was gracefully slender with long legs. The man smelled very nice…….the cologne he wore was subtle yet spicy. It was always nice when a client had good hygiene habits. Again the awkward silence and blue eyes studying him, perhaps the woman who had brought him up had been wrong and Scott didn’t find him pleasing at all….maybe preferring the younger Edward who was frolicking on a holiday.

“Perhaps we might go over your ground rules?” asked Scott evenly after several moments.

Greg hoped the guy wasn’t into really kinky shit, not that there was anything wrong with kinky shit if you were into certain things but it was disconcerting when a client asked to do something that wasn’t your bag. He’d been quite disconcerted when one of his female clients had wanted him to slap her about in a not good way even after telling her his ground rules, thankfully she had not mentioned it again once he had reiterated his ground rule of no violence.

“Money upfront before we start, I do the usual stuff…….oral, anal, any position you like…..condoms are not negotiable….if you want bareback then we’ll part ways now…..similarly I don’t do bodily functions that should be kept in a bathroom……I don’t mind mild B&D, roleplay and a bit of rough but fisting is out and I won’t do simulated rape, violence, breathplay or bloodplay.” said Greg.

“Quite acceptable.” nodded the auburn haired man who withdrew his wallet from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and thumbed through the notes tucked inside before taking out several fifty pound notes to hand over to him.

Greg counted six hundred pounds then put them in his trouser pocket. Three hundred for the first hour regardless if the full hour was up or not, then two hundred every hour after that was his normal fee……the agency took 25%. Scott wanted an hour then.

“So, is there anything in particular you would like from me?” asked Greg.

“First I would like you to remove your clothing” said Scott going over to sit primly on the end of the bed.

Greg didn’t make a display of it but blue eyes remained fixed upon him as he stripped down to bare his body to the man’s gaze. He’d never been self-conscious or prudish when it came to nudity, he wasn’t as perfect as a man half his age but for 42 he looked pretty damn good. He ate healthily, ran three times a week and went to the gym twice a week.

Scott’s eyes dropped down as he let his trousers fall to the carpet taking in his half hard cock and hairless balls. Guys generally weren’t fussed with pubic hair but the ladies liked him nice and bare down there the same as his chest smooth, he’d had no complaints about his cock either…..every female client had been delighted with his thick and generous eight and one quarter inches getting them off. 

“Turn around, please.” asked Scott and Greg did as he was bid quite content in the knowledge he’d been told many times he had a fantastic arse. His shirt slid from his shoulders to join his underwear and trousers.

“Do you mind if I use my own condoms and lubrication?” asked Scott.

“Not a problem.” said Greg with a shrug, as long as condoms were used he didn’t care whether a client provided them or he provided them.

Wordlessly Scott approached him, soft fingers trailed gently across the skin of his shoulder where the tattoo of a Care Bear, more specifically Harmony Bear who was violet with three purple hearts on the belly……it was the first thing he had given his daughter when she had been born....and her name was Harmony.

The tattoo on his right hip was touched next; a simple cross with a red rose twined around it….he’d had that done on his sixteenth birthday and hidden it from his Mum who had detested tattoos. 

Scott moved behind him and touched the last of his tattoos; a simple Celtic knot he had liked adorned his right shoulder blade in deep green and black. Scott surprised him by running his nose over his shoulder to smell him and after a moment pressed his still clothed crotch against his nude arse. The man obviously found him to his liking if the erection he sported inside his trousers was anything to go by.

“Would you like me to suck that for you?” asked Greg.

“Yes.” answered Scott simply.

Greg turned around and slid to his knees. With practiced ease he popped open the button and lowered the zipper before dropping both trousers and black boxer shorts down willowy thighs. There would be no need to coax a shy prick to attention; the circumcised head was peering out at him from between the gap in the white shirt. Scott produced a condom from his waistcoat pocket and Greg tore open the foil packet before wrapping a hand around the erect shaft and rolling the condom down and pinching the tip.

Greg parted his lips and traced his tongue around the ridge of the head, licking down the vein on the underside before tasting the pleasant musk of the man by sucking a full and furred ball into his mouth and rolling it with his tongue. He paid the same attention to its counterpart, letting to go with pop. Scott’s breath hitched when he slid his lips over the encased head of his cock, sucking on it like it was a lollipop. He quite enjoyed giving head, probably more so than eating a woman.

Scott slid his hands into his hair to cup the back of his head, silent but for the increased rate of his breathing. Closing his eyes Greg sucked and licked the man becoming slightly dismayed that Scott was so quiet, only merely eliciting another hitched breath when Greg relaxed his jaw and took the slender length down his throat, pressing his nose into the neatly trimmed gingery pubes that smelled of clean floral soap and hummed.

As soon as Greg drew back and pressed his tongue along the vein again Scott gently pulled him off. He opened his eyes to look up at Scott whose cheeks were flushed pink, lips reddened and slightly swollen as if he had been biting them.

“I’d like you on the bed now, on your front please.” said Scott, voice now deepened and huskier than it had been before.

Greg rose and crawled on to the bed staying on his hands and knees assuming the man wanted him that way and spread his knees apart which seemed to be the preferred position of his male clients. He waited as the bed jiggled, Scott shifting up behind him. Normally he would have done a little preparation when meeting up with a male client but the booking had been at such short notice he’d hardly had the time to do so.

“Sorry, I would have prepared myself some but I wasn’t expecting…….” began Greg apologetically.

“No it’s fine, I didn’t expect you to be ready.” said Scott “Do you mind if I prepare you or would you rather do it yourself?”

“You decide; I don’t mind either way.” said Greg honestly.

After a moment hands gently grasped his arse cheeks and parted them. Greg closed his eyes and relaxed waiting for the methodical and likely hurried preparation to begin, a slippery thumb brushed over his hole and he allowed his thoughts to go to the current book he was reading and wondered if the main protagonist would end up the murderer after all.

He grimaced at the slight burn of two fingers stretching him carefully. Well at least Scott didn’t jab at him and didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get inside him but he would have preferred to have done some stretching before coming to meet a male client.

He opened his eyes as the two fingers pressed deep inside him and Greg gasped as they twisted finding his prostate. He gasped again as they were thrust back deep inside him, shivers going up his spine and his bored cock raised its head with rapid interest. It had been many, many years since a man had bothered to pleasure him from the inside like this.

“You really don’t have to bother with……fuck!” swore Greg as the fingers again thrust into him and stroking over that spot. He reached down to play with his cock, stoking it lightly.

“You are here for my pleasure…….and it pleases me to make you feel good.” said Scott quietly.

Oh it was good. It was very, very fucking good and Greg wasn’t going to deny that. He barely noticed the addition of another finger he was so relaxed and turned on. Breathing hard he rocked back on the fingers that probed and scissored him open, his prick leaking all over the swanky quilt. He tugged at his balls to chase away the beginnings of the lead up to an orgasm.

“Scott…..” groaned Greg warning the man he was not far off coming.

Abruptly the fingers were pulled from his arse making Greg hiss with the sudden emptiness. He breathed out, relaxing as much as possible listening to Scott open another condom before a hand was laid on his lower back and the latex covered head was lined up. The man wasn’t gentle but neither was he rough and careless; Greg moaned both at the burn and the sensation of being suddenly filled.

“Oh that’s good, I can feel every inch of you.” murmured Greg quite truthfully squeezing around the length inside him producing a gasp from the man behind him “Fuck me nice and hard, baby.”

“Are you always this chatty and demanding with your clients?” asked Scott “Because a running dialogue is quite unnecessary.”

Well, fine……he’d keep his mouth shut……rude asshole, nothing like putting you in our place as simply a whore with holes to fuck.

Silent now Greg pushed back meeting the man’s languid thrusts as he was fucked. Well, at least it had been a financially beneficial evening, and he would still be able to go home at a decent time and probably grab some Chinese take-away since he’d not had dinner and watch an episode or two of Last Tango in Halifax…..

Scott slammed into him hard, eliciting a cry from Greg at the unexpected roughness and his knees skidded up the quilt. Hands gripped his hips firmly and pulled him back the few inches he’d moved and held him in place as the man took him hard enough to make the bed creak and bang into the wall. He idly wondered if someone was on the other side of the wall, hearing the banging of the bed into the wall that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than a rough coupling. 

For some reason the thought made his cock grow hard again and he moved to shove his hand underneath himself but had to quickly put it back when he was almost knocked off balance by the snap of Scott’s hips smacking into his arse. Greg sucked in a breath as the man leaned over him and changed to fucking him in a languid slide. Smooth hands left his hips to slide up to his shoulders and then down under to his chest. Long fingers rubbed lightly over his nipples, as teasing as the cock that was lazily pumping in and out of him. 

“No touching yourself.” said the man, his voice even and steady as Greg reached a hand underneath himself once more. 

He squeezed around the prick inside him and Scott gasped softly again but it was quite clear Scott was not going to be a quick fuck and would be making use of the entire hour. Scott paused keeping himself fully seated and took both Greg's nipples between forefinger and thumb and rolled them between his fingers. He’d always been particularly responsive there but generally male nipples were overlooked as an erogenous zone, unlike women’s nipples that were lavished with attention. He'd found out how much male nipples could be just as sensitive as a woman's when he was 15 and the girlfriend he had at the time complained he was too rough playing with her tits and shoved her hands up his top and pulled at his nipples. She had been offended and dumped him when he asked her to do that again to him.

Greg hissed in pleasure as the nubs were plucked and pulled, the touches sent little sparks of pleasure down into his balls making them ache a little. It seemed the man was quite content to delay his own pleasure to draw out embarrassing sounds from him as the sensitivity grew in his nipples the more they were played with. He whimpered, moaning in both pleasure and pain as fingers pinched both nipples and stretched the hard points before rubbing at them lightly. He wasn’t sure whether to sob with relief or ask the man to keep doing it as the touches ceased. 

Scott shifted back and completely withdrew his erection which hadn’t flagged any inside his arse the entire time.

“Turn over Nathan.”

He kept his face impassive as he rolled over onto his back, his cock slapping against his belly. It was a little unnerving that the other man was still fully dressed making him keenly feel his nakedness. Scott’s cheeks were deeply flushed to a ruddy red though he remained devoid of any expression, his blue eyes dropped from his face to his hard cock stuck to his belly with the sticky pre-come he’d been leaking. 

Greg swallowed as the other man put his hands under his knees, pushing them back and open so that his hips lifted from the bed and he was spread wide and exposed. Keeping his legs open by hooking his arms around under his knees the man then grasped his wrists firmly but not tightly so as to squeeze them and held them next to his head.

Greg stiffened with a shocked expulsion of breath: the man had so effortlessly positioned him to stimulate his prostate as his cock filled him once again. Blue eyes fixed upon his face as he moved to fuck Greg slowly……the drag of cock along his prostate made him shiver and arch up…..the slight pressure deep inside him was both a little uncomfortable like he needed to take a piss but sent tingles up the underside of his cock as well as down the slit.

He wanted to close his eyes away from the scrutiny of the man whose expression did not change as he lazily pulled out and re-sheathed himself to the hilt, Greg arched up and shuddered, clenching his fists at the arousal growing in the pit of his abdomen. Scott made no sound, watching Greg’s reactions and breathing evenly despite Greg now involuntarily squeezing around him each time he almost nearly withdrew from his body before slowly sliding back inside.

Greg groaned as the pressure inside built like a small flame beginning to take hold, he felt pre-come dribble over his stomach as Scott pushed inside tortuously slow, his awareness beginning to narrow down to the sensations in his groin…..Scott was composed, in complete control …….aside from his rosy red mottle cheeks and dilated pupils it seemed as if Greg was now the client and Scott the escort fulfilling his sexual needs.

He closed his eyes, giving in and submitting himself to Scott’s control and tried to buck up in an effort to get more friction…….instead Scott thrust into him and Greg jerked, crying out at the delicious fire that ignited low in his belly and spread down to his cock and balls……..he had never felt anything like this, there had been men before his marriage who had used their fingers to stimulate his prostate, and rarely had a cock ever found it but this man was devastatingly proficient in taking a man apart from the inside.

Greg didn’t care about the sounds he made, he couldn’t reach down and take himself in hand to relieve the pressure in both his balls and cock……for every three slow fucks there was one hard thrust……his belly was now soaked with his pre-come, his orgasm was there but it wasn’t there….it held on the edge for what seemed an eternity.

Suddenly Scott stiffened and stilled inside him and Greg opened his eyes, chest heaving and shaking to look at the man who was silently gazing down at him. He wanted to plead; beg the man to keep fucking him to completion and praying to god the quiet, emotionless man hadn’t already finished and would leave him still hard and unsatisfied.

Scott bent his head and licked the seam of his lips; Greg automatically opened his mouth granting the man access. His male clients normally didn’t kiss, a few of his female ones liked to be kissed and Greg didn’t mind kissing if a client wanted that from him. He’d expected dominating, hard kisses but was surprised by the soft press of open lips and a tongue licking gently into his mouth. He could taste tea, something vaguely sweet and a hint of bitterness from a cigarette smoked perhaps hours ago.

The man moaned softly against his lips and Greg threw his head back arching up into Scott as he quite suddenly drove his cock into him, Greg’s control completely slipped away and sounds of pleasure dropped from his lips…..he could hear Scott panting harshly now, lips at Greg’s throat as he pleasured him unselfishly. 

“God…..oh god….oh god…..oh god” 

He wasn’t sure if it was him or Scott chanting the litany as he grew dizzy, he could hear his own heart hammering in his chest……the grip around his wrists disappeared and a hand wrapped around his cock. Intense pleasure struck him and rocked him down to his very core, he felt as if he was blown apart, put back together then blown apart again as his body locked up and shook with the force of his orgasm that stole his breath away.

Greg opened his eyes a little disorientated and heavy with fatigue, a soft blanket covered his nakedness and he realised he was not in his own bed.

“Hello again.”

Startled he sat up glancing around the hotel bedroom, the blanket sliding down to his waist as he set eyes on the smartly dressed woman who had brought him up to the hotel suite sitting comfortably in a corner chair. 

“Scott asked me to remain behind and ensure you got along once you woke up.” she said simply, eyes glued to her phone as she tapped on the keys.

He looked over at the little alarm clock, it was 10.45 so he couldn’t have been out of it for more than fifteen minutes since he’d gotten here at 9.30, spent approximately an hour with Scott……Christ, that had been a first……literally fucked senseless till he passed out......and if Scott had been a weirdo also fucking dangerous.

“Do you mind if I use the bathroom first?” he asked wanting to take a quick shower to remove the stickiness of the lubrication clinging to his arse.

“Help yourself Nathan.” she said making no move to leave the room.

He got up, if she didn’t give a hoot about his nakedness then neither did he. His legs were a bit wobbly and shaky as he collected his clothes from off the floor and then padded to the bathroom glancing over his shoulder at the woman who quickly ducked her eyes back to the phone after eyeballing him in his birthday suit.

Greg’s own eyes almost fell out of his head as he saw his reflection in the mirror. His neck and throat looked like it had once when he’d been a teenager, Scott had sucked up love bites that were a deep purple in several places.

“Christ, how the hell am I meant to hide those……fucking vampire!” swore Greg grimacing at the state of his skin.

Quickly showering then dressing he found the bedroom empty and padded through the suite to fetch his shoes and socks. The woman was leaning against the luggage rack waiting for him. After putting on his shoes and socks he stomped to the hotel door and yanked it open.

“Tell Dracula thanks for the teenage tramp stamps, they look really great on a man in his forties.” said Greg sarcastically “Perhaps next time he engages the services of an escort he might think about either putting his mark on them below the collar or donning a muzzle.”

With that he stomped down the corridor and steeled himself to do the walk of shame through the lobby and felt the eyes of the concierge on him as he went past. Sliding into his car he winced, still sensitive from the fucking Scott had given him……he bloody hoped if a booking came along the following evening it would be a woman……if he got a male he would feel every thrust of a cock inside him otherwise.

He doubted very much if he would be engaged again by Scott, especially if Edward was his regular escort……and the snipey words he’d left to be passed on by his minion were bitchy enough to let the man know he didn’t appreciate having his neck chewed on…..even if the sex had been quite spectacular. It wasn't going to be much fun putting on a scarf even if it was October, the days were still warm enough to get about in a shirt or t-shirt,

Inside the hotel room the woman wiped tears of laughter from her eyes after sending a text to her boss so he knew Nathan had left. Anthea couldn't wait to relay the message to him face to face just to see his expression, if Nathan knew who Scott really was he would shit himself with fear. She liked the older man, he was truthful and very handsome, she could see why her boss had spent much longer with him than Edward.......Anthea had made sure she had gotten an eyeful of that entire package as he'd got up to go to the bathroom.....very delicious, delectable bottom and a cock far larger than Edwards......she didn't like Edward much, fake smiles, fake flattery and fake in the bedroom......oh yes, she had heard the simpering twat in the bedroom.....he sounded like a bad pornographic movie. She would be surprised if her boss got Edward back again, she hadn't missed the flushed cheeks or the satisfied air about the man when he'd called her up to the room once he was finished with Nathan.

Still tittering at the cheek of Nathan, Anthea swept the hotel room of all traces of the tryst.


	2. Wanting more

Mycroft pursed his lips and glanced over to the folder on the corner of his desk. He had read only one or two of the files Anthea collated on the multiple men he had engaged for sex. Whilst one should be armed with all the facts when it came to these things and not simply rely on an agency’s assurance their staff was thoroughly checked, it would be lax to not have all information at hand in the unfortunate event of an indiscretion or attempt at blackmail. Such folders he had read with boredom, he had little interest in their mundane personal lives and sought only to relieve himself with their bodies. He was quite sure if anything of relevance surfaced then Anthea would inform him immediately and it would be dealt with neatly and efficiently. It wasn’t as if he was seeking out anything other than a professional service like any other professional service, it was just sex……though the sex with the man in that particular file had been far from mediocre.

Mycroft was not interested in all the emotional entanglements a relationship would bring and from the very first at age 19 he’d paid for sex. The first and subsequent two times had been with an escort named Quentin who had been more than twice his age and quite understanding of his lack of hands on experience though Mycroft had been well versed in all theoretical aspects of all things regarding sex. Quentin had been an excellent tutor introducing him to the practical applications of how to pleasure a male body and had been the only man he'd allowed to penetrate him, both in order to rid him of his virginity and to experience what it was like to bottom for another man. 

Relationships were destructive; involving oneself with sentiment, dangerous….caring was not an advantage. He had learned that at a young age when palmed off to nannies and housekeepers as early as he could remember, rarely seeing his parents and then was sent to boarding school at the earliest opportunity. In the three years he attended boarding school he learned he was different to other children…..three miserable bloody years of ridicule and scorn, bullied and suffering more than one beating. Worse was seeing the parents of many of his peers come to collect them, lavished with hugs and kisses while he merely stepped into the back of a car nodding at the driver who had been sent to collect him and convey him to a home where it was usual to find his parents absent, and if they’d been home he would have merely been acknowledged with a frown then would be ignored. The older children were clever in knowing only to hit the younger ones where the dormitory masters and teachers didn’t see the bruises and welts. When he had come home at the end of first term with a split lip and loosened front tooth from a 9 year old who had been fond of kicking him up the backside Father had merely said it would toughen him up and make a man of him despite Mycroft informing his Father the school had lied and he had not been injured playing rounders. There had been other things that had gone on after dark, things that thankfully nobody wanted him for though he had lain under his blankets terrified he would be singled out.

He had been alone until Mummy had brought William home just after his seventh birthday, the pregnancy had been an accident and more than once she complained about having the inconvenience of it all. Mycroft had not been an accident; he knew he was the requisite heir though there had been no planning for a spare. When his new brother had been brought home he had been a small, pale waif with a mop of dark curls who drove Mycroft up the wall with his fussing and his parents to be absent more than ever from the house inside of 3 months with his non-stop crying. When he’d had enough he had marched into the nursery when the Nanny had left William there to scream behind a closed door. Mycroft had taken him out of the cot, held him in front of his face like he’d seen Nanny do when she threatened William to shut the fuck up and scowled at him.

“It will do you no good, making all this noise is not going to make any difference……you are irrelevant just as I am and you might as well just get used to it William Sherlock Scott Holmes!” he’d growled at the 3 and a half month old frowning at how tired, miserable and sickly the baby looked.

Watery pale eyes the same colour as Mummy’s had stared at him, the screaming blessedly ceasing and the silence deafening in his ears as Sherlock quivered with hiccupping sniffles. He had stood frozen to the spot at the little hand that lifted and clutched clumsily at his hair; his brother had blown a bubble out of the nostril of his runny nose and cooed. Something in his chest had hurt as William revealed his lack of teeth and graced him with a gummy smile.

“That’s better, there is no need for the relentless din you are creating.....surely by now you have realised nobody will have a care if you cry day and night” he had told his brother firmly, changing his mind not to just put him back in his cot. Instead he carefully cradled him in the crook of his arm like he’d seen in a Mothercraft book he’d read in the library at school then took out his handkerchief to wipe the snot from William’s nose and told his brother the Nanny was a stupid troll who didn't have two brain cells in that head of hers which earned him another toothless smile.

Jiggling him a little while rocking him, Mycroft had sung Amazing Grace quietly to him so that Nanny didn’t hear and William had held his thumb in his tiny fingers, gaze fixed upon him and fallen asleep snuffling and smacking his lips. It hadn’t been difficult for his seven year old brain to comprehend William was looking for human closeness and was expressing it the only way he knew how. They lived in a large home, were rich and lacked for nothing materialistically but emotionally they were completely neglected and starved for affection. Whenever he could he stole about when Nanny wasn’t around to talk, sing and cuddle William who cried less and smiled happily when he saw Mycroft. After a month Mycroft began to call his brother Sherlock rather than William, because like his own name it was different whereas William was common and boring......and his brother was anything but common and boring.

Clenching his jaw Mycroft took out his wallet and went into the zippered compartment at the back and slipped out the small folded photograph he kept hidden there. It was a black and white sample size taken by a professional photographer when he was eight years old. These had been tossed aside into the bin by Mummy with a curl of disdain since none of them were of her children posed like dolls and looking completely perfect the way she wanted it. 

One year old Sherlock had decided he did not want to dress up like a little sailor and sit for photographs, sitting still for hours for a photo that would please Mummy was boring. Nanny had cajoled, offered bribes, swore, threatened under her breath and even promised to allow Sherlock to go and get dirty in the muddy pond when they got home if he was a good boy and let the nice man do his job……and didn’t William want to make Mummy happy? Even at such a young age Sherlock was smart enough to know that Mummy didn’t give a fig about him thus why should he give a fig about her.

Of course Sherlock being Sherlock would not just sit still and get it over with like Mycroft did. He had thrown his sailor hat to the floor and quickly ran to escape the exclusive photography studio only to be snatched up by Nanny who kept a smile pasted on her face as she almost threw Sherlock back on the bench where they had both been told to sit and jammed the sailor hat back on viciously. It had not been put on straight and Mycroft had turned to Sherlock pleading with his eyes to just sit still for a few more minutes as he rearranged the hat and sat it back on tidily, his brother had poked his tongue out at him and Mycroft had given him a small smile of indulgence. The photographer had snapped the camera and captured them both in this candid natural picture where they were interacting with each other as brothers rather than posed mannequins …..a moment in time where nobody could see they were different, unloved and unwanted but saw two normal happy boys.

That day had marked a turning point. Nanny dropped all pretense of acting nice the moment they entered their home, her shouts had even brought their housekeeper out of the kitchen where she just stood and did nothing, indifferent to all of it. Nanny had called them all manner of nasty words, telling them their parents would be overjoyed when the pair of them were in boarding school most of the year and didn’t have to put up with their shit. Sherlock, unaffected and uninterested with her tirade, turned away and Nanny had lunged at Sherlock grabbing his arms, shaking him violently and making him scream. Mycroft had pulled on her arm to stop her from hurting Sherlock and she had backhanded him across the face knocking him over.

Sherlock had thrown himself at Mycroft, shaking with fear as he huddled into him for protection. He had wrapped his arms around his brother keeping his eyes on the Nanny and told the Housekeeper coldly to call his parents to come home immediately. Mycroft didn’t know what Nanny had seen in him when she took a step towards them to grab his brother again but she had rapidly taken a step back when told her in an icy voice he would kill her if she laid a hand on Sherlock; thankfully she had turned on her heel and left them alone. Mycroft would have used his bare hands to strangle the life out of her in order to protect his brother; to this day Mycroft would crucify anyone who hurt his brother…..the only person he had ever loved and loved him in return though their relationship these days could be tenuous.

His parents had been angry at having been disturbed and resented having to come home. Mycroft had halted their self-absorbed ranting and told the pair of them he would no longer be attending boarding school and a tutor would be engaged to educate both he and Sherlock at home. Any new Nanny would be on a three month trial after he had personally vetted her and from now on he would share a room with Sherlock. His Father had gone red in the face at being told what to do by an eight year old until Mycroft informed him flatly he really didn’t give a shit what he thought since both he and Mummy didn’t give a damn about either of them and forfeited the right to act like any kind of parent. He coldly told his father if he wanted to make issue of it would drag the Holmes name through the mud by first informing child protection they had allowed a Nanny to abuse them and were never home to ensure their safety and well-being, then he would call a newspaper and give them a scoop on how Father was currently sneaking about with Lady Williams' daughter when Mummy was off at her lunches with the socialites and who was, to his knowledge, not of the legal age of consent to be fornicating with anyone let alone a married man fifteen years her senior.

All hell had broken loose between his parents then; once again they were ignored, he had taken Sherlock upstairs and closed the door so they didn’t have to listen to the arguments. His parents had stayed together for appearance sake and no longer a marriage between, Father had died of a heart attack when Mycroft was 18 and he had come home from University to take care of the arrangements since his Mother pleaded her nerves couldn’t take it though in truth like both he and Sherlock she just didn’t give a damn but found time to lap up the sympathies from the social climbers she rubbed shoulders with. Neither he nor Sherlock had shed a tear at the funeral though their Mother had acted like the grieving widow to perfection. 

The new Nanny had been efficient and kind but lacked any real warmth. Similarly the new tutor was knowledgeable and stuck around until Mycroft was ten, packing his bags when he refused to be corrected by a three year old Sherlock who told him the atomic weight of Gallium was more than the atomic weight of Zinc even though it was perfectly true. By then neither of them required a tutor since Mycroft was more than capable of educating Sherlock. Like Mycroft, Sherlock was intelligent way beyond his years and by age 11 when Mycroft went to University could spend the time he was away filling his hours with books, experiments and anything that interested him......and deal with anything if the nanny or housekeeper gave him trouble.

“Mycroft?”

“Yes, what can I do for you Anthea?” he asked, looking up at his personal assistant as her voice permeated his thoughts.

She raised her eyebrows at him and he knew she had spoken more than once; Mycroft replaced the photograph back into the compartment in his wallet. He hadn’t meant to get into thoughts about the past but the email from Mummy informing him she was getting engaged had brought things back to the surface. He and Sherlock rarely saw her though Mycroft ensured the Holmes estate was both financially and physically secure from any threats. There had been many who had sniffed around the wealthy widow before his Father had barely gone cold in his grave scenting money to be had….though he cared little for her he would not allow opportunists to try and take what was the property of a Holmes. The man she had become engaged to was a boor and an idiot but a security check on him did not reveal anything untoward, nor did his overflowing bank accounts and investments suggest he was after financial gain from a marriage.

“You seem to be very distracted at the moment, particularly this last four weeks.” she observed and Mycroft noted the genuine worry in the tone of her voice.

“Once again the terrorist level is high for London, security logistics are being devised to keep our Queen and Prince Phillip safe for their trip to Australia and New Zealand, downstairs are two guests of Her Majesty that won’t play and give up information on which organisation is funding their little plots to blow up Westminster Abbey and we are ferreting out a mole inside GCHQ passing sensitive information that will only end in embarrassment for our Prime Minister.” said Mycroft evenly “So forgive me if I am a tad distracted, my dear.”

“Don’t even try, I’ve been at your side for too many years for you to fob me off” said Anthea snippily “None of them are causing you this kind of distraction, you could deal with all of it in your sleep…...is it anything I can help you with?”

“No, just some old wounds.” replied Mycroft softly.

Anthea did not pursue it further; she was the only person aside from Sherlock who was privy to their less than ideal childhood……she was also the only person who had ever seen him fall apart. He'd had nobody the night Sherlock had very nearly died from an overdose of cocaine save for Anthea who had held him when he began to cry after hanging up the call to his mother who had been callously indifferent and more concerned Sherlock would make a fool of her rather than concerned her son was critically ill. Anthea had listened without saying a word as he unburdened himself, later confiding in him her own unhappy childhood, her two brothers favoured because they were male despite excelling in everything far beyond what they had ever done at every turn. 

“You still haven’t read it yet, have you?” she asked, changing the subject "I thought that one you might read."

“Read what?” asked Mycroft pretending he did not know what she was referring to though they both knew it was the folder that had sat unopened on the corner of his desk. 

“I notice you’ve not ordered him abducted and shipped off to a Siberian prison for calling you Dracula.” said Anthea thoroughly enjoying herself “Are you going to see him again?”

“Keep annoying me about him and I’ll have you abducted and shipped off to a Siberian prison.” murmured Mycroft under his breath.

“I’d like to see you try, darling.” snorted Anthea hearing each and every word “I organise your entire life from bullying my way into appointments with the Queen’s Secretary to choosing your ties…..who would ensure Christmas cards are sent on time on your behalf, field unwanted visitors and irritating phone calls, check you have taken medications when needed, listen to your blustering, just to name a few things…..quite simply I am indispensable, my dear….like all wives are.”

She was quite right, he did not know what he would do without Anthea and indeed if he did not prefer men would have asked her to marry him years ago…..and in all probability she would not have turned him down. It had been eight months after she had started as his personal assistant he had entered this very office and she had been dressed to seduce him…….any red-blooded heterosexual male would have been gagging at the sight of her clad only in her sheer knickers, lacy bra, high top stockings and high heels draped over his desk in a pose that raised a blush to his cheeks even now…..he had been so stunned he’d failed so dismally to deduce this possible situation arising he'd done nothing to stop her pushing him up against the closed office door and kissing him......she had been equally stunned when he'd told her he was extremely flattered and she was a very attractive woman but he was gay. He wasn't sure which one of them was more mortified, her barking up the wrong tree or him wishing he was bisexual and could just throw her over his desk and make her scream in pleasure.

That evening had never come up in conversation by either of them by unspoken agreement though over time a private joke had arisen between them referring to her as his wife, which of course, some had assumed that she was his wife as well as personal assistant……he’d heard more than one underling murmur about Mycroft getting his leg over in the office at lunchtime, joining the mile high club shagging the missus in the private jet and the best was Anthea fellating him under the desk during a video conference with the CIA Director. It kept unwanted attention from other females at bay though a few had tried their luck which he nipped in the bud quick smart by saying quite truthfully but in a professional capacity that Anthea was the only woman for him.

“Are you going to ask me to book him again or go back to Edward?” she asked again persistently.

“Every bit the wife with the nagging too, my dear, and I do not bluster.” said Mycroft mildly “Right now I would like you to put your nurturing wife hat on and inform my housekeeper I would like her mustard seed chicken breast for my dinner with a light salad.”

“I’ll call Mrs Whitby and let her know.” said Anthea with a long suffering sigh. 

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, everything is in order and Melanie can take switchboard to be on hand.” said Mycroft keeping his face carefully blank as he took his wallet from his suit pocket again and withdrew a credit card to proffer to her “Go and…..I don’t know, do whatever it is females do to pamper themselves in their spare time……..a hardworking wife deserves a little me time after all.”

Her eyes narrowed, suspicion written all over her face though it wasn’t uncommon for him to send her off to do as she pleased when it was quiet around the office which was not a regular occurrence. She plucked the card from his fingers having no qualms about putting a sizeable dent into his credit card balance, as one of his colleagues had pointed out to another one time – a happy wife meant a happy life. 

He returned his focus to the computer screen where his personal email account was opened displaying the unsettling email from Mummy. He would need to speak with Sherlock about it; no doubt the one Mummy had sent his younger brother had been deleted without being opened. He was sorely tempted to just to touch the delete button and pretend he’d never received it having little interest in having to attend a tedious engagement party.

“Off you pop then.” he murmured “And don’t forget to let it slip to that nitwit Brendon on security desk that the husband has sent you out for some racy undergarments to titillate him with tonight; that should stir the rumour mill quite nicely..…it’s been a bit quiet of late.”

“Wicked man.” she admonished with a tinkling laugh and took the folder on the corner of his desk with her before shutting his office door which automatically locked from the other side behind her.

He closed the laptop and glanced at the space where the file had sat on the corner of his desk stamped Mycroft Holmes Level 5 Security Eyes Only. He touched his lips with a finger remembering those lips that had unexpectedly kissed him back instead of turning away. Nathan remained stubbornly in Mycroft’s head after that Friday night with him. He had tried locking him behind the closed door in his mind where he kept all of them from over the years but he escaped constantly to distract him.……he shifted in his chair as an erection began to stir in his trousers at the memory of the escort the agency had sent instead of Edward. 

He had been apprehensive about a new escort as he always was; Edward had been his sole booking for nearly two years though admittedly he had long ago grown bored with the predictability of the man so perhaps it had been opportune Edward had not been available. His apprehension had soon disappeared; Edward’s replacement, Nathan, did not come on to him strongly and his calm demeanor helped to relax Mycroft. He had been worth every pound. When time permitted he would like to spend more than an hour in the man's company, take his time and savour every inch of that body. 

Upon finding Nathan sitting and watching adult movies Mycroft had been pleasantly surprised. He had expected the usual naked and wanting to get on with it, instead he’d found the escort still dressed and waiting for Mycroft to direct him. Nathan was a very desirable man. He had always preferred older men and the salt and peppery silver hair had been most arousing. Mycroft bit his lip and palmed his trousered crotch lightly, he was hard…..again. He’d had more erections in the last four weeks than all year. Normally an appointment every three to four months was more than enough to satisfy his libido but lately it appeared to have a mind of its own requiring him to masturbate frequently.

It took him but a mere moment to pull his phone from his breast pocket, find the number and dial the escort agency though it was normally Anthea who made the arrangements. It rang three times before the call was picked up.

“Good afternoon, Venus Escort Agency, Diana speaking.” 

“Good afternoon, I would like to make an appointment for this evening” asked Mycroft in his most professional voice.

“Have you an account with us or are you a new client?” asked Diana.

“I have an account, Scott Sherrinford.” answered Mycroft.

“Mr Sherrinford, how lovely to hear from you.” responded Diana cheerily, recognising the name “Edward is available this……”

“I was hoping I might engage Nathan again.” countered Mycroft.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m afraid Nathan is unavailable on a Thursday night and is only available Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights after 5pm.” said Diana regretfully “Unfortunately both this weekend and next he has been entirely booked with appointments and won’t be available until a fortnight after that on Friday evening.”

Mycroft swore silently. That simply would not do, he could not wait three bloody weeks! He supposed he could call upon Edward but the prospect was not very appealing.

“Due to the nature of my work I am unable to make firm appointments in advance which you well know.” said Mycroft calmly “I would be most grateful if Nathan could make an exception and accept a booking at 6pm……for the inconvenience should Nathan consent, I would be most agreeable to extend him a fee of two thousand five hundred pounds for one hour of his time.”

He heard the woman splutter in shock then cough to cover it up.

“I can relay your message to Nathan and call you back if you like, Mr Sherrinford?” she said quickly no doubt having already calculated her own five hundred pound fee.

“I would prefer to contact you, say, in ten minutes?” asked Mycroft. There was no way he was going to hand out his private mobile phone number which had security measures built into it so could not be traced and only ever came up on another phone as unknown caller.

“I’ll contact him now, Mr Sherrinford.” said Diana quickly and hung up.

It was 4.30pm now, time enough to finish up here and go home for a bath and choose his clothes before meeting with the man…….if he accepted. Money talked and it would be highly unlikely such an amount would be turned down……after all, he sold his body to make money meaning he either needed the money or liked to live a certain lifestyle. After precisely ten minutes had elapsed he called the number again.

“Good afternoon, Venus Escort Agency, Diana speaking.”

“This is Scott Sherrinford.” said Mycroft drumming his fingers on the file impatiently.

“Hello again Mr Sherrinford.” greeted the woman “I’m terribly sorry but Nathan has declined your offer and extends his sincere apologies that he is unable to meet with you."

Mycroft’s jaw dropped quite taken aback at the rejection. How could the man turn down two and a half thousand pounds for an hour of his time? It was on the tip of his tongue to offer another thousand on top but he would just appear as pathetic and desperate. It was a ridiculous amount of money he had offered in the first place, he had never paid that much for sex…..well......Nathan be damned…… 

“Edward will be fine, 6pm at my usual establishment.” said Mycroft snappily.

“Got that, have a lovely evening Mr Sherrinford.” said Diana. 

Mycroft tossed his phone to the desk in temper then slumped his shoulders. 

No, his evening with Edward would be mundane now he’d had a man like Nathan.


	3. As good as the first time

It had taken five maddening, very long weeks and an advanced booking made by Anthea before he could engage Nathan again and even then there was the risk he may not be able to attend the engagement should something requiring his attention arise. Edward had been a less than satisfactory experience and he would not be engaging him again, in the end he had shoved the man’s face into a pillow so he didn’t have to listen to the phony cries of pleasure that had been very irritating to the point it detracted from his own pleasure. It was almost tragic that it took him the better part of nearly the hour to actually reach an orgasm and Edward had been miffed he couldn’t just quickly get him off by just using his mouth.

Time in that five weeks dragged though he was exceedingly busy and then suddenly the day arrived, but by 6.50pm on the actual evening Mycroft was feeling as tightly wound as a spring, on the one hand he was very much looking forward to the sex, yet on the other he could not help wonder if Nathan might think him quite pitiful to have offered to pay so much money for an hour with an escort. No, that should matter little; after all the man was, by definition, a prostitute though offered other services beside sexual ones, he was paying for the use of man’s body and his thoughts or opinions mattered little. 

Sinking onto the sofa he breathed in and out to try and relax, even having helped himself to a small brandy for purely medicinal purposes. Anthea had literally kicked him out of the office to get him ready assuring him she could take care of the few minor things that needed attending to but would contact him if needed then grinned at him with a leer stating her husband had better return to work well satisfied otherwise she would be taking an impromptu holiday if he continued to be a moody sexually frustrated sod. He felt no sexual attraction towards her whatsoever but he had wondered what sex would have been like with her if he’d fancied women……it would interest him to observe her with another man…..would she dominate him or yield to him…..would she be aggressive or passive?

Mycroft jumped up, startled by the knock on the door. Taking several calming breaths he sedately walked over to open it.

“Hello.” 

Nathan greeted him with a smile, his utterly gorgeous hair had grown a little and he wore a crisply ironed brown check shirt that made the colour of his eyes look even darker. The older man was even more handsome than last time if that were possible, he could well appreciate such a good looking man was in demand by both sexes having already determined Nathan was bisexual in the first few minutes of their previous meeting. Eye-candy was but one adjective he would use to describe Nathan with looks that would appeal to both males and females alike.

“Good evening, won’t you come in?” asked Mycroft stepping aside so the man could enter, noting the slightly damp hair and the waft of scent that was very pleasant though not overdone.

Nathan laid a darker brown jacket that had been slung over his shoulder onto the back of the sofa while Mycroft fetched the money from the pocket in his suit jacket that hung in the closet next to the door.

“You are a difficult man to secure, quite in demand.” said Mycroft handing Nathan the envelope who tucked into his jacket on the sofa without counting the contents.

“This time of year is very busy with all the festivities.” answered Nathan simply.

“Of course, Christmas functions and the like are abundant at the moment.” said Mycroft taking a sip of his brandy “Secret Santa’s, office parties….mingling.”

Christmas was treated no different to the rest of the year though Mrs Hudson, Sherlock’s landlady, had invited him around on Christmas Eve and he always purchased Anthea a little something. Both he and Sherlock held no sentiment for the festive season, their parents had the staff put up a tree and place gifts under it while they spent their Christmases in tropical destinations.

“Can I offer you a drink?” asked Mycroft remembering his manners.

“A nip of rum would be lovely, thank you.” responded Nathan and continued talking while Mycroft fetched him the drink “I’ve quite enjoyed attending different functions, interesting people and fabulous food though I think I’ve heard Jingle Bells so many times it would be enough to last me a lifetime.”

The response he’d been going to give dissipated when Mycroft turned around with Nathans drink and stared at the older man’s bottom hugged by the trousers while he bent to take off his shoes and socks. Even though he had masturbated only a short time ago another erection was making itself known inside of his underwear, the pleasant warmth of arousal already surging through him again. He gaped like an idiot as Nathan stood back up and turned, skin now showing where the shirt had been unbuttoned to the middle of his chest. For a moment he envisioned taking the few steps towards Nathan and ripping the shirt open to touch the smooth, tanned flesh…….

Mycroft gulped down the last mouthful of his brandy, now unaccountably nervous, the older man gazed at him for a moment before padding towards him, took the glass with the nip of rum in it with one hand and reached out to pluck the empty tumbler from his fingers, place it on the shelf then take hold of Mycroft’s tie with the other to draw him along without waiting for any direction this time. Mycroft silently followed, shocked by the brazen action that nobody in the circles he moved in would ever dare do……frightened of The Iceman.

Once in inside the bedroom Nathan let go of the tie then reached down to open Mycroft’s button and zipper, finishing the rum as he lowered his trousers and peeled down his underwear. Pushing him down to sit on the edge of the bed he took a condom packet from the pocket of his own trousers slid to his knees in front of him, placing the empty glass aside on the carpet. With deft fingers a bright pink condom was quickly rolled on and the smell of strawberry wafted into his nostrils. Flavoured condoms, something he had never thought to purchase but would in all likelihood taste far better than standard condoms that also smelled unpleasant to his nose.

Mycroft carded his fingers into damp softness of stunning silvery hair and loosely threaded it between his fingers, spreading his knees so Nathan had better access and leaned back as one hand grasped his cock at the base and the other cupped his testicles while his firm tongue slid over the head of his prick. Nathan sucked slowly, tongue dancing around the ridge then pressing up against the sensitive frenulum and Mycroft bit back a groan wishing he could feel the moist muscle without the barrier of a condom. Normally he just closed his eyes but this time he watched, wanting to see Nathan’s cheeks hollow, see those sumptuous lips wrapped around his prick as he was sucked. There was no crude slurping as he bobbed slowly up and down, the pace was quite leisurely and he wondered if the older man was as partial to having his mouth on a woman as he was fellating a man. He’d had many a mouth suck him down like a high powered Hoover with the intention on trying to make him come as quickly as possible but Nathan appeared to be unhurried, more intent on drawing out Mycroft’s pleasure rather than performing a quick blowjob.

He swallowed down a moan as Nathan took him into his throat, the pressure made Mycroft bite at his lips, a gasp escaped him as the older man hummed sending delicious vibrations through his shaft then exhaled shakily when Nathan pulled back; gasping each time he deep-throated him, wondering how much practice he’d needed to do it so effortlessly. Mycroft could learn a language in four hours, decipher a coded cryptology message in three hours and mastered fencing in two but he was unable perform the same whores trick without choking…… he’d had abundant practice on one of the smaller dildos he carefully kept concealed in his bedroom in an effort to master it but his gag reflex would simply not cooperate.

He wanted to whine with frustration as Nathan took his mouth away, stood and took a step back which meant having to relinquish the lovely silvery hair in his hands but one look at the mussed up strands and the spit slicked reddened lips more than made up for the abandonment. 

Dark eyes regarded Mycroft and he kept his face expressionless as he watched the man shuck the brown shirt to the floor then undid his trousers before both trousers and the silky green boxer shorts underneath joined the shirt of the floor. Mycroft stared at the vision of naked masculinity before him. Leonardo Da Vinci’s ideals be damned, this male was Mycroft’s Vitruvian Man and his mouth watered with want. 

“What would make your evening pleasurable tonight, Scott?” 

The older man slid up on to the bed next to him and lay back on one elbow; in a calculated move he slid a hand up his thigh lifting a leg to rest a foot on the edge of the bed. Mycroft wanted to tear his eyes away at the attempt to be seductive, a move he had seen more times than he could count, but the older man was ridiculously tempting……tempting him even further when the bent knee back offering up what lay between those muscular thighs. He flicked a glance to the older man’s face expecting to find a feigned coy expression with amusement underneath, the man wouldn’t be the first to mock him for paying for sex but he found no hint of ridicule or a bored, falseness in his expression.

After a moment’s hesitation he twisted round and gently touched the other man’s testicles, they were lush, soft and waxed free from pubic hair. He gathered both sacs in his palm but it was exquisite prick that had him transfixed. Nathan took the stiffening organ in a hand and stroked it in his fist, Mycroft was mesmerised by the loose foreskin that slipped over the end like a snug sleeping bag then retracted back to reveal the shiny head underneath……watching as a drop of pearly liquid beaded up from the slit. It took considerable will power not to lean down and lap the moisture off with his tongue.

Nathan’s lovely prick was a good two inches longer than his own and much thicker…..he licked his lips at the thought of cramming it into his own mouth to gorge greedily on its decadence. How he would love the man to, hold him in place and feed him his prick, to use his mouth to pleasure himself and making him choke on it, then order him to stick out his tongue and come over it and have him lick him clean……or better still pinning him face down and stuffing it up his arse, the entire fat length stretching him open until he was impaled on it and then fucking him through the mattress with it. 

Mycroft was almost breathless at his imaginings; he did not trouble himself with such intimacies on a physical level but it did not stop him fantasising…..escorts were usually fixated on getting the job done as quickly as possible and had little to no interest in seeking any pleasure themselves. Mycroft did not expect someone he paid to have sex with him to actually enjoy it, he wasn’t blind to the faked orgasms or pretended noises of enjoyment…..indeed that was why he rarely touched them any more than necessary and preferred to either just let them suck him off or penetrate them from behind so that it was easier for them to act out the charade.

He did not take it for granted this would be a repeat performance of last time though he hoped it was exactly like last time. Nathan had acted out no charade. In the 19 years he had been engaging escorts he’d never had one like Nathan though Quentin had come close. The man had not squirmed away when he tried to make it pleasurable and hadn’t made exaggerated noises that sounded like a terrible pornographic movie. The expression on his face and the reactions of his body had not been faked.......dilated pupils, increased respiration, increased heart rate, muscular contractions…….the authenticity of his reactions further proven when ejaculate had striped his hand and sullied stained his clothes. He had been more than a little frightened when the older man had fallen into la petit mort but after checking his breathing, colour and pulse were normal he rolled the man into a more dignified position and covered his nudity with a blanket then left.

Nathan appeared at ease with Mycroft touching him. Cushioning his head on his shoulder Nathan took his hand away when Mycroft abandoned the testicles and then touched the silky skin at the base of his erection. It was divine to touch a prick other than his own, he traced his fingers over the veins and mapped the surface of the warm turgid skin, his mouth watered again as he grasped the girth and lightly palmed it in his fist. Between the hitched breath and the flesh in his hand growing harder one did not need to make any deductions that the older man welcomed the fondling. 

“That feels nice.” commented Nathan encouragingly.

“You have a lovely penis” said Mycroft quietly after working up the courage to truthfully flatter the man.

He was not one to articulate compliments freely and found them even more difficult to receive. 

“Thank you.” 

Mycroft was grateful the compliment was taken with a minimum of fuss, thankful the man did not seek to fish for more compliments or gush out false ones in return. His fingers itched to touch the scar on his thigh, wanting to ask how and who had shot him, from its placement Mycroft knew the bullet that had caused it had very nearly caused his death, just a scant few millimetres more and he likely would have bled out from a perforated femoral artery.

Mycroft blinked as Nathan rolled over the moment he let go of his prick, scooting up and reaching to drag a pillow down from the top of the bed to wedge under his hips to rest comfortably and opened his legs, presenting his beautiful arse. Mycroft shifted on to the bed and between the older man’s legs, pulse quickening at the dusky coloured rose he would dearly love to coax open with his tongue after burying his face between the rounded cheeks and perhaps decorate them with a gentle bite or two. Instead he took out a packet of lubricant from the pocket of his waistcoat and coated his fingers after opening it, warming it first before lightly smoothing it liberally down the cleft and gently rubbing it over the wrinkled dusky skin. 

He pressed a finger against the well-oiled hole, it sliding easily into the already slick and loosened channel that the man had pre-prepared before meeting with him. Perhaps next time he would ask Nathan to prepare himself while he watched, that brought with it a variety of titillating images. Adding another finger he eased them into the still snug cavity and scissored them to loosen the muscle further. It took little to slide both fingers in and out easily, it helped that Nathan was relaxed and pliant. Turning his fingers he pressed in up to his knuckles, now was the time they squirmed away finding this intimate touch, much like kissing, far too personal or unwanted…..

“Fuck!”

Mycroft froze, mouth going dry at the shouted profanity, but instead of Nathan squirming away the man wriggled his arse pushing back to get the fingers further into his arse just like last time. Mycroft obliged pressing his fingers in as far as he could get them and probed, rewarded with moans and indrawn breaths that were positively indecent and provocative. The salacious sounds made him feel hot, and under the linen shirt and waistcoat he began to sweat. Pulling his fingers out he dabbled a little more lubricant on his fingers and Nathan hummed in satisfaction as he carefully opened the older man’s body further, the passage yielding to accept his three fingers. Mycroft sucked in his breath as Nathan made a particularly lewd noise then frowned as the man turned his face into the pillow hands scrabbling at the quilt and muffling the sounds he made as Mycroft curled his fingers inside him again.

No, that would not do. He wanted to hear the older man’s enjoyment, not have them stifled in a pillow. Removing his fingers once they moved freely and penetration would cause a minimum of discomfort; Mycroft took another condom from his waistcoat pocket.

“Turn over please, and leave the pillow underneath you.” asked Mycroft rolling the condom on himself and using the last of the lubricant from the packet to smother around it.

Nathan had rolled over as he’d requested drawing up and opening his legs so that Mycroft could move up between them. The older man looked utterly debauched, his cheeks were flushed, lips still rosy from the earlier blow job, his beautiful cock hard and weeping…..Nathan brought his knees up higher, turned his head and closed his eyes. Mycroft braced himself on an arm to reach down position himself. 

It took all his willpower not to let his eyes roll back into his head and groan as he started to slip inside the man, god it was heaven, the slicked channel was snug and hot around his prick and Nathan’s arse was so tight he could well imagine this must be what if felt like to deflower a virgin though he’d never actually had a virgin and had little desire to do so.

Nathan was anything but the shy virgin though and draped a calf over his waist as leverage to angle his hips up to make the slide easier though there was some discomfort reflected in the older man’s expression from the burn of penetration. Steadying himself on one hand Mycroft placed a hand on the inside of the thigh of the leg not draped over his waist and pressed it down to spread Nathan open even further, the man arched beneath him with a sharp intake of breath as Mycroft buried himself to the hilt.

The masculine scent and warmth of Nathan body assaulted his senses, he was in no hurry to gain his satisfaction quickly and slowly pumped in and out shallowly. Remembering how sensitive Nathan had been to having his fingers on his chest the last time he traced his tongue around a chocolate coloured nipple then flicked it over the pointed tip, gratified by the stuttered breath that came from the older man. Encouraged, Mycroft took the taut flesh into his mouth suckling on the nub tasting of soap and the man’s natural flavour spreading over his tastebuds. Nathan mewled and then startled Mycroft by combing his fingers into his hair. 

His first instinct was to shy away. He was unused to being touched other than on his prick but he shivered as blunt nails scratched across his scalp lightly; the bitten off groan that escaped his throat was mortifying as goose bumps rose along his skin sending incredible sensations flooding though him. He had imagined hands in his hair like this but had no idea how much of an erogenous zone it would be for him. Nathan twisted his fingers in his hair and pulled at it to inflict just a bite of pain and he was unable to prevent the undignified howl of utter pleasure at the forceful behaviour that made him quiver with desire.

“No.” gasped Mycroft, alarmed at the primal feeling inside him that toppled his self-control.

Nathan let go immediately and Mycroft pushed down on the back of the other man’s thighs so his knees were pressed into the mattress and shoved his prick all the way back in. Nathan let out a shout, eyes opening wide as Mycroft frantically began thrusting into his arse with little finesse. Pulling almost all the way out he stared down at the clutching of the tight arse spread open around his prick and watched it disappear as he shoved back inside the man, Nathan’s cock smacked against his stomach on every thrust.  
Nathans face was twisted into ecstatic agony, loud guttural groans shamelessly fell from his lips and his arse tightened each time Mycroft penetrated him, selfishly lost in the sensations of having a prick know exactly how to get at that special spot inside him. 

“No.” he growled as the man went to touch his own prick that was wet with sticky fluid that leaked down onto his belly.

Intoxicated, Mycroft swivelled his hips to the heighten the older man’s pleasure, spellbound at watching Nathan fall apart under his hands, feeling the older man trembling and hearing the utterly carnal noises coming from his slack open mouth. At the moment Nathan was his perfect wet dream, an older man so sure in his masculinity that he felt no shame in bottoming for another man and took pleasure in anal sex rather than feeling degraded, humiliated or pretended to like it.

Shifting position Mycroft fell forward and braced his hands of the mattress gasping as the older man planted his feet on the bed, grabbed hold of Mycroft’s shoulders and canted his hips up to fuck him back instead of remaining a passive participant.

“Harder.” moaned Nathan “Fuck me harder.” 

Nathan choked out a cry as Mycroft took him roughly, their skin slapping violently together. The bed clattered into the wall, eliciting a squeak as they bounced on the mattress. Balancing on one arm Mycroft pinched an erect nipple, twisting it enough to elicit a yelp from Nathan then yelped himself when hands raked into his hair, seized hold of it firmly and brought his head down to slot their mouths together. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced with Anthea or Quentin, or indeed like the previous time they had kissed. The kiss was hard and passionate; Mycroft felt like an untried youth as Nathan bruised his lips and licked his tongue inside his mouth, demanding and controlling and Mycroft greedily devoured him in return. He broke the kiss, dragging oxygen into his lungs and face growing hot with the noises he was making, puffing and gasping in the most embarrassing way that made him cringe internally. 

The fingers in Mycroft’s hair pulled, the pleasurable pain making him shriek and sway from the intensity of it, it going straight to his prick and he grit his teeth trying to hold back his orgasm, attempting to reach between them to try and hurry things along when the older man arched up with then stilled mid-air and cried out profanities as he climaxed. Though he had masturbated around an hour before meeting with Nathan, the rhythmic clamping of the older man’s arse around his prick wrung an orgasm out of him so overwhelming that it sent his mind offline, going completely blank then sputtering back online as he slumped, arms shaking, on top of the older man. 

Both of them were panting and he could feel Nathans heart hammering as fast as his own through this clothes. Mycroft swallowed quite sure his cheeks were neon red since they were burning hotly as post coital awkwardness seeped in now that the thrall of sexual arousal wore off. He needed to escape, gather himself…..

Without looking at the man he lifted up, carefully held the condom in place and then shuffled away before hitching up the trousers and underwear pooled at his still shoe clad feet and quickly went to use the other bathroom leaving the one in the master bedroom for Nathan to use. After disposing of the condom and cleaning the front of his waistcoat and shirt as best he could of Nathan’s ejaculate he gazed at his reflection in the mirror and grimaced at his untidy hair, still flushed face and swollen lips. He looked rumpled and every bit like he’d just been shagging. Washing his hands, arranging his clothes back into place then smoothing his hair back to its usual neat style he lingered for a few minutes composing in his mind what he was going to say.

Calmly, he left the bathroom expecting Nathan to be waiting for him but the jacket that had been laid across the sofa was gone, upon further inspection he found the suite empty and the bathroom unused. Mycroft sunk down to sit onto the edge of the messy bed. He hadn’t planned on reading the file Anthea had collated on the man but now his curiosity was piqued and he wanted to know everything about him. He touched his bruised lips and slumped back with a groan. He wondered how quickly he could meet with Nathan again.


	4. Inflagrante delicto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go tits up when Greg meets with Scott again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a long chapter, it just kept going. More very soon, apologies for the wait.

Christmas and New Year had come and gone in the usual flurry of activity. The two weeks leading up to Christmas had been very busy in the bookshop with people looking for prospective gifts and those wanting copious amounts of hot beverages to keep them warmly fortified while they shopped. He had spent some wonderful time with his daughter who had gifted him a Dr Who TARDIS mug and Hogwarts t-shirt, enjoying Christmas Eve and morning with her until she then went back over to her Mums later in the day for Christmas. For a late Christmas lunch he’d gone to Sally’s, partaking of far too much food and definitely way too many bottles of wine then spent the night in his old room at her house waking to a filthy hangover reminiscent of those he’d had for a few of his wild teenager years come Boxing Day. New Year’s he’d spent rugged up on his sofa watching The League of Gentleman DVD’s and trying to stave off a cold he had caught by drinking hot toddies liberally laced with the brandy Sally had given him for Christmas……he’d got more than a bit pissed on the ‘medicinal’ remedy which really hadn’t helped any and ended up with a good bout of ‘flu for a week and a half. 

He’d come back to a long, slow two weeks at work with just a few regulars coming in for their daily dose of caffeine or pot of tea and like many shops they were feeling the post-Christmas quietness that seemed to happen for the first few weeks into the New Year. Bookings with the agency had been scant from the week before Christmas, he’d been booked for the day after Boxing Day by a couple wanting to have a threesome as their Christmas present, it had hardly been classed as a threesome since Richard, the husband, spent the entire time peering out of a wardrobe with the door ajar while his wife, Brenda, pretended Greg was someone she was having an affair with. It had been an exhausting experience.

Brenda had been something of one woman sex fiend; she had certainly gotten her moneys worth for the two hours he was at their service. Her stamina for sex equaled her enthusiasm for it…..twice he’d got her off with his fingers, once with his tongue, twice having her doggy style while fucking her arse with a dildo in the shape of a dragons dick and still she demanded he get on his back for some 'dessert' then proceeded to fuck him like she’d gone years without a cock up her until he thought either he or the bed might actually collapse from the vigorous pounding, his poor prick had resembled a limp noodle once her ravenous twat had finished with it. Richard had suggested to Brenda they book Greg again for her birthday in February to which Brenda readily agreed, Greg reckoned the poor bugger needed a break from his wife’s voracious sexual appetite and made a mental note to do some limbering up next time he saw the couple when he rolled out of bed the next morning and his entire body felt like he’d played a few games of rugby instead of from the marathon sex.

Once he’d assured Diana he was well over his illness and ready to resume work with the agency she’d made bookings, the first a new client Friday evening named Agnes. Agnes had been pretty Scots lass, very shy, single and had specifically asked for a much older man. His professionalism had been tested when he first met her, he’d very nearly decided to leave and refund her money until she’d tearfully explained to him the guy who had been her boyfriend for the last seven months had proposed and she'd stupidly relented in going to bed with him once there was a ring on her finger. She confessed the sex had been very quick and awful, getting dumped the moment he’d tumbled her. The bastard had left the parting shot he’d only wanted to get into her the knickers so he could notch having another virgin to his mates. Feeling disgusted and angry at how Agnes had been treated he’d stayed just over two hours with her despite only being paid for one. Greg had put aside his difficulty with the fact he was actually old enough to be her bloody father and put the needs of his client first which was what he was paid for. As an older man he’d made damn sure that Agnes had been shown how a proper gentleman treated lady in the bedroom, using his knowledge and experience to make the wanker who had used her so badly look like a fumbling, useless teenager. Afterwards she had shyly said she was going to save her pennies and book him again.

Last night had been just as different. Another new client Diana had booked brought a man in his mid-thirties, in the closet and with the door firmly closed. Terry was married, a father to four daughters and religious though Greg didn't ask which particular one since it didn't really interest him. Evidently not only cheating on his wife played on his conscience, but the man asked God to forgive him for being a Sodomite and expressed remorse for his adultery and unnatural urges before they'd started. The man soon put his wife, children and his sorrow over his sins of adultery and homosexuality aside when Greg stripped down to his birthday suit and stood naked in front of him. Terry had obviously given in to his ‘unnatural urges’ many times as he got on his knees, grabbed Greg’s dick and begged him to fuck him like a dirty slut. Terry was very vocal in his enjoyment of being a sinner, scratching at Greg’s shoulders and back while writhing like a bitch in heat on Greg's cock. Once the hour was up the man then placed the blame for his sins squarely on Greg for being a poof and tempting him, Greg had shrugged his shoulders and told him to go tell his wife he preferred cock to a cunt. 

Sunday was quiet on the booking front so he slept in, went food shopping then spent the afternoon and evening doing some baking and making ready meals for the freezer. Monday night after another slow day at work he found himself on the other end of the phone with Diana who had called to pass on a request for a short notice meeting with Scott. It had been seven weeks since he’d last had a booking with the man and given it was a Monday night he should refuse and decided to do so. Scott had made him feel just a little bit dirty the last time……unable to look at him, wanting to get away as fast as possible the moment it was over and not even having some kind of courtesy to show him out……Scott was cool, reserved and underneath that rigid control he was as tightly wound as a spring. Of course Diana called back like last time within a few minutes after their call had ended. 

“He asked to me call you again to extend the offer of two and a half thousand pounds.” said Diana “You know, he never ever offered Edward more money on the days he called for Edward when he wasn't available …….you must be doing something he likes, he was never like this with Edward……none of my other employees get offered so much money either.” 

“I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary…….he hasn’t specifically asked for anything special either.” said Greg not elaborating any further to protect his clients privacy, the man was if nothing else persistent though he didn’t understand why the man would pay so much money for something he could easily get elsewhere. Venus Escort Agency was only one of many reputable and discreet providers of male and females for a client to engage. 

“Are you absolutely sure you won’t meet with him tonight?” asked Diana.

Greg tussled with himself mentally; it was a lot of money and Scott wasn’t exactly a client that was hard work…...even if the man was a bit of an odd duck the sex was pretty damn good. Scott if nothing else was quite boringly conventional in bedroom and was strangely focused on ensuring the sex was enjoyable for Greg, there were plenty of rich upper class twats who got off on the more non-conventional stuff, some going too far and mistakenly believing because they were paying a sex worker they could do whatever they wanted or not bother with something called consent. If a tom on the street or the highest paid escort in London said no then it meant no, just because someone made a living from selling sex it didn't give a person carte blanche for things that would get you arrested. Greg had seen some bad shit in his time as a police officer; there were some right sick fuckers out there whose cruelty and violence could turn the strongest of stomachs. 

“Fine, okay, just this once……the money won't go astray.” agreed Greg sure that Diana was rubbing her hands at the nice fat cut she would get out of it.

Instead of the hotel he’d met Scott at previously Diana gave him an address in Lennox Gardens in Knightsbridge to go to, an area that was very well to do with at least million pound properties. It didn’t surprise him in the least, it didn't take a huge mental leap to know Scott was wealthy……it pretty much was evident with his posh accent, bespoke clothes and the way he had offered so much money that time for just an hour which had he not had Harmony over that night to stay would have certainly considered it at the very least. 

He dashed into his bedroom, grimacing as he looked in his closet and remembered he’d tossed both pairs of his good trousers into the laundry hamper on Friday and Saturday night and hadn’t yet washed them, he pondered the possibilities of his closet then with a shrug selected a black pair of denim jeans that were about the smartest he owned then tugged his favourite brown check shirt off a hanger, grabbed a clean pair of boxers and ducked into the bathroom. 

Suitably shit, showered, shaved and with a bare minimum of preparation he headed out to Knightsbridge. Driving round a bit he parked the car a little ways down from the address once he found an empty space, looking around at the pricey real estate he made a mental note to remember to stick on a lottery ticket as he walked towards the number of the home he’d been given. Though they were called flats, they were a world away from the kind of flat he lived in…..he would bet his left nut his entire flat could fit in just a corner of these expensive homes not that he begrudged those who could afford to live in areas and homes like these. Such was life.

“Hello Nathan.”

The same beautiful woman who was ‘hired help’ from the first time he’d met with Scott was standing on the steps outside the building to greet him. He didn’t think hired help was probably the actual title of her occupation he guessed she was more a personal assistant and the way she dressed.....very feminine and businesslike combined with the way she held herself and tried to not be obvious in keeping check of her surroundings told him that she was likely a personal assistant come personal protection. It made him wonder what Scott actually did for a living.

“Hello…..um, sorry I don’t know your name.” said Greg politely.

“Oh, yes…..Alicia.” she smiled and didn’t bother to hide her own inspection of him before turning on her heel.

“Is that your real name?” asked Greg following her. 

“Is Nathan yours?” she countered smoothly.

“Touché.” returned Greg with a chuckle “Though Alicia is quite a lovely name for a lovely woman.”

They arrived at a door that Alicia opened with a swipe card, the door whirred then clicked open.

“Quite the smooth talking Silver Fox aren’t we?” grinned Alicia flirting with him. 

Greg gave her a wolfish grin after stepping through the door she held open and she gave him a small leer in return. If he’d met her in a bar or something he’d take her home no worries for some fun in the bedroom if she was keen. Scott had been sitting on a squishy looking fawn coloured sofa but now stood up at Greg’s arrival. 

“I’ll leave you gentlemen to it.” winking at Greg who grinned at her.

Blue eyes flickered between Alicia and Greg before the door clicked closed behind the woman as she departed. Once again Scott’s face was inscrutable; he was immaculately turned out in light grey matching trousers and waistcoat, the white shirt underneath was absolutely pristine and complete with pearly looking cuff-links, the sleeve garters above his elbows were quite old fashioned and charming. Blue eyes darted over every inch of him, lingering on the denim jeans that were fitted probably a little too much before coming to rest on Greg’s face with a piercing stare. Greg shifted under that gaze and couldn’t help feeling like he was being read like a book; it sent an inexplicable shiver of unease down his spine. Scott cleared his throat and emptied what was left of the alcohol he held in a crystal tumbler in a single gulp. The unease disappeared when it struck Greg that the younger man appeared to be anxious like the last time. 

“You have a lovely home.” said Greg breaking the silence and glancing around.

The main living area was tastefully decorated, the light wooden coloured floors looked very classy, a thick dark brown rug sat under a coffee table and around it were two mid brown coloured single chairs, the fawn coloured sofa and a burgundy coloured sofa adorned with a few tan and burgundy coloured cushions and afghan throw rugs over the backs, Roman blinds in a caramel colour covered the windows. There was no television but a large bookcase was stuffed full of old looking books. A dark wood dining table that matched the coffee table sat to one side and a sideboard sat near a set of dark French doors that led out to a small patio illuminated with solar lamps casting warm light onto leafy and flowering foliage in pots. It wasn’t really what he expected of the man’s home, he'd envisioned Chesterfield sofas in rich plums and antique style furniture…..this looked relaxed and homey and not at all overstated.

“It’s not mine…..well, it is, I own it but I don’t actually live here.” said Scott evenly “May I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you.” answered Greg. He approached the man, the action seemed to make Scott even more nervous. Greg took the crystal tumbler from his fingers “Why don’t I get you another drink while you get comfortable?” 

Greg turned and walked to the sideboard, first laying the tumbler down then taking off his coat which joined it with the grey one already hanging on the back of a dining chair. He selected a decanter of amber coloured liquid that looked closest to what Scott had been drinking and put in a couple of measures. When he turned back around an envelope lay near his coat containing the money for the evening but Scott was still standing in the same place having not made a sound when he’d moved to put it there. The man stood so straight Greg wondered if there was a broom rammed up his backside that was his spine, perhaps if he wasn’t so suited up like an old Victorian Schoolmarm he might loosen up a little.

He ignored the envelope, not really needing to check the balance of the money inside was correct and went back to Scott whose blue eyes widened a fraction when Greg took a generous sip of the smoothest scotch he’d ever tasted that likely cost a King’s ransom then without protest went along with Greg after he'd grasped the navy blue striped tie and led him along towards what he hoped was the direction of the bedroom. He did indeed find a bedroom at the end of the short hallway containing an old fashioned king size wrought iron bed covered in a thick quilt of grey geometrical designs matching the muted greys and charcoals decorating the rest of the room and upon which the fattest fluffiest pillows he'd ever seen sat. 

Blue eyes dropped to his mouth when he took another small sip of the scotch and he licked his bottom lip, the pupils in those lovely eyes dilating further as he did so. He proffered the tumbler back the younger man who took it and swallowed at least half in a quick gulp. Greg reached up and untied the perfect Windsor knot on the tie and noted the small beads of sweat that had formed on the closely shaven skin above his upper lip. 

“You seem nervous, Scott.” observed Greg, smoothing a hand down over the soft fabric of the waistcoat. The suit jacket on the chair was no doubt just as soft and a far cry from the quality of the off the rack suits he used to buy for work at New Scotland Yard. Greg paused at the top button of the waistcoat for a moment making sure he wasn’t doing something that was presumptuous before starting to unbutton it. 

Scott made no reply but emptied the last of the scotch in the tumbler and continued to gaze at him intently while he opened each button on the waistcoat and carefully tucked the gold chain attached to the fourth one down into the pocket where he kept his pocket watch. Before Greg could open a button at the collar of the crisp white shirt long fingers grasped his wrist loosely. 

“Mycroft, not Scott.” said the younger man in a steady voice.

Now that was a name you didn’t hear every day, in fact, he had never heard that name ever. It seemed more fitting to the man somehow than Scott, it sounded properly pompous and smacked of the upper classes, a bit stodgy and quite formal. If it was in fact his real name and not another made up one.

“Mycroft.” said Greg, rolling the name round his tongue though it didn’t sound quite as eloquent coming from him since his background was more from the riff-raff side of town as the posh gits would say “Mycroft.”

Greg ducked his head just a fraction then looked up under his lashes at Mycroft, a look his ex-wife once said made him look a seductive mix of innocence and please-come-fuck-me. A small bead of sweat trickled down from the perfectly combed hair and stopped above an equally perfectly groomed eyebrow. He licked his bottom lip again then huffed as the younger man smoothly swung his arm around by his wrist to rest against his lower back. There was no force behind it; or any ill-intention to hold him against his will but it did close the space between them so their bodies touched. He could smell the scotch on Scott's breath and the clothed erection that had been quite evident after Alicia had left them against his lower belly. 

Mycroft leaned in, eyes on his mouth and lifted his other hand to frame Greg's jaw. Last night he had turned his head away from Terry not allowing this intimacy, uncomfortable with the idea of doing that with the man who would likely go home and kiss his wife but tonight he lifted his chin allowing the man to kiss him. A tongue skimmed over his closed lips and he readily parted them permitting the man access, the slick muscle dipped inside his mouth, licking over his own tongue. He’d been kissed by quite a few men in his time but none had ever kissed like Mycroft did, his kiss was like delicate caress....graceful and elegant rather than loose-lipped, sloppy and half-arsed. 

Though he had spent only two hours with Mycroft so far he had learned the man found the act of kissing erotic and was deeply aroused and excited when his hair or scalp was touched. He broke the kiss to first lick over the man’s bottom lip then nibble at it with his teeth before running his unrestrained hand into fine hairs, tightening his fingers in the reddish auburn strands. Mycroft made a deliciously debauched sound and quickly stepped away from him like a skittish foal shying away from his touch though. Mycroft avoided eye contact and his own eyes widened at the expression that crossed the man’s face for just a scant few moments. A vivid red flush flamed across Mycroft’s face and Greg wasn’t entirely sure if it was embarrassment, anger or….. 

He moved fast, hands on his shoulders and propelling him backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed so that Greg tumbled onto the ridiculously soft mattress with a bounce. Hands went to the waistband of his Greg’s jeans, popping open the button and unzipping them at lightning speed. He lifted up so both could be pulled down and Mycroft quickly divested him of his shoes and socks before his trousers and boxers were hauled down and off then thrown over his shoulder to the carpet. Blue eyes fixed upon his face and Mycroft insinuated himself between his knees that were slightly hanging off the bed, hands grabbed the bottom of his shirt at the front and yanked, the fabric tearing and buttons flying off in all directions. 

“Oi, that was my……oh!” his protest at having one of his favourite shirts ruined was cut off as Mycroft suddenly clasped Greg’s balls in a hand. 

He wondered if he'd imagined the vulnerable and open expression he’d seen only moments ago when he saw the predatory look now on Mycroft's face that made Greg shiver. Oh yes, he thought, quite happily closing his eyes and reclining back on his elbows at having his bollocks fondled and kneaded, prick taking great interest at having it's counterparts being handled just so and feeling as agreeable as a puppy having it's tummy tickled. Abruptly the hand on his family jewels disappeared and Greg opened his eyes to find a head of reddish auburn hair down between his thighs and let out a shocked noise feeling a hot tongue swipe over his knackers.

Shamelessly he opened his legs wider to give Mycroft more room then let out another shocked noise when the younger man sucked both balls into his mouth with a dirty sounding slurp. It was rare to be treated to such attentions and he certainly hadn’t expected Mycroft to engage in such intimate behaviour but then from the start this man had stated it pleased him to make Greg feel good and Greg certainly wasn’t going to object at what he was doing. He whimpered in mingled pain and pleasure as Mycroft stretched his nut sack, using a little teeth and rubbed a finger gently over the skin behind his balls. 

“Christ!” he groaned, closing his eyes and going into a blissed out stupor as the man tugged on and squeezed at his nuts with that talented mouth. Maybe he'd get really lucky and he'd blow him too.

Mycroft touched his prick lightly tracing his fingers around it after discarding his balls from his mouth then pressed his pointed nose to them and nuzzled at his hairless ball sack audibly taking several deep inhalations to smell the musky scent down there that always naturally lingered like the sweet scent of a woman's snatch did. A hand cupped his balls again as if testing their weight; groping and massaging them. Greg moaned loudly, collapsing back on the bed and clutched handfuls of the quilt with a squeal when both his now sensitive and swollen nuts were gobbled down with another wet, filthy sounding smacking of lips.

His thighs were quivering when a mobile phone chirruped, it was almost a relief for his balls to fall out of the moist heat that had been suckling noisily at them. Making an irritated noise, Mycroft rose plucking his phone from an inside pocket in the waistcoat looking at the display screen while daintily dabbing at his mouth and chin with a navy blue linen handkerchief as if he had just finished dining in a restaurant. A frown appeared on his flushed face, tucking the handkerchief in his waistcoat pocket he compressed his reddened lips together then tapped at the screen before putting the phone to his ear. 

“What is it?” asked Mycroft curtly and coolly in a low voice to the person on the other end “I asked not to be disturbed unless…….”

A door slammed against a wall in the flat making Mycroft jump, turn and drop the phone to the carpet.

Mycroft took two steps towards the bedroom door then stopped as a much younger man clad in a long navy blue overcoat with light coloured eyes, dark curls and the most ridiculous cheekbones ambled into the doorway. Greg recognised him from having seen him briefly once at New Scotland Yard bickering loudly with Phillip Anderson when Greg had gone in to see his mate Paul Dimmock who was also a Detective Inspector like Greg had been. Pale eyes focused on Greg who quickly pulled the quilt over to cover his nudity.

“Your taste in tarts has improved at least, the last strumpet was definitely lacking in size in comparison to this one and definitely destined for the plastic surgeon again despite being younger……too many tanning lamps thus too many wrinkles…vicious cycle really......he'll have a hide like a rhinoceros by the time he turns 45 unless skin cancer gets him first though I suppose some don't care what a slapper looks like........."

“Enough” said Mycroft in a quiet, calm voice halting the other mans babbling.

Greg threw the quilt off, quickly grabbing his underwear uncaring if the much younger man got an eyeful of everything. Clearly Mycroft was in a relationship and his partner had come to this home he probably kept for his bits on the side and caught him red handed with another man, well he wasn’t going to stick around for the ensuing row, god only knows why Mycroft was paying someone like him when he had that stunning creature in his bed.

“Oh don’t leave on my account, let him get his end away or he'll be a miserable bastard....... wait, haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” asked the curly haired man narrowing his eyes at Greg and stepping into the bedroom.

"I’m out of here, domestics give me a headache.” said Greg yanking up his boxers then grabbing his jeans and pulling them on “And nope, you haven’t.”

“I have……I just need to think…..where?” said the curly haired man taking another step towards Greg considering him.

Mycroft reached out and put a hand on the other man’s shoulder who struck like a snake, in the blink of an eye he had Mycroft against the wall with his arm twisted up his back at a painful angle.

“The Yard, I saw you at the Yard talking to that idiot Detective Inspector Dimmock.” said the nutter as if he wasn't on the verge of breaking the other man's arm.

“You let him go, now!.” growled Greg angrily.

There was no excuse for physical violence and he wasn’t going to walk away and do nothing when a partner was in danger of copping a beating. Attending domestics where there was violence or homicides as a result of domestic violence was something he rated up there with having to attend child murders or indecent dealing with children. And yes, the verbal type of domestics did give him headaches.......god knows how many times he'd had to pop an Iboprufen when Trudie started gobbing at him when he dared ask where she'd been all night.

“It’s quite alright Nathan……..” 

Mycroft gave a distressing pained wail as the younger man shifted his weight still regarding Greg with interest ignoring the other man. Greg grabbed the younger man by the upper arm and swung him away from Mycroft. He grunted, seeing stars as the sod struck out and clobbered him in the nose and then heard another pained wail come from Mycroft after a thudding sound. Blinking through streaming eyes he pulled the younger man away from Mycroft again, strong fingers grabbed his throat and he grappled with the curly haired nutter then threw caution to the wind and hit out like he would if it were a bar or street brawl. Mycroft shrieked, Greg staggered wincing at the sound. Dizzily he touched his numb nose blinking at the two Alicia's that appeared in his vision; her mouth was moving but it sounded like gibberish and from a distance. Grey spots dappled like lights at the edges and coming over all strange he closed his eyes dropping to the carpet beside the younger man who was out cold from the vicious Liverpool Kiss he'd felled him with.


End file.
